


It Doesn't Happen to Boys

by cinder1013



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode s03e05, M/M, Non Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinder1013/pseuds/cinder1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To fill this <a href="http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fglee-angst-meme.livejournal.com%2F22143.html%3Fthread%3D14313855%23t14313855&sa=D&sntz=1&usg=AFQjCNEgeFwCcdGCsonwvdJpwxHdXe5wDw">GKM</a> prompt:<br/>Blaine doesn't listen to Kurt and rapes him. Kurt doesn't tell anyone and he breaks up with Blaine. Rachel (?) finds out that Blaine was extremely drunk when he and Kurt had sex (don't know how she found out) and somehow draws the conclusion that Kurt got Blaine drunk so that he could sleep with him and then dumped him. The Glee Club gets crazy pissed and basically isolates and blames Kurt (except for Finn [cause they are brothers] and Puck [cause that's his boy and I'm a die-hard Purt shipper]). </p>
<p>I want for Kurt to feel even worse because he does blame himself for allowing himself to be in that position and now it seems as if everyone else does to. </p>
<p>Up to filler if Kurt attempts suicide but I would like it if somehow it got out that Kurt was raped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Happen to Boys

Kurt snuck into the house. He didn’t really need to be quiet since it was only himself and Finn tonight, his dad and Carol were out of town again, but after everything that had happened tonight he didn’t want to risk being seen. 

His whole body hurt. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from crying and he felt dirty. No, it wasn’t just feeling as though he was dirty. He could still feel how sticky his jeans were in the back, feel Blaine’s release leaking out of him. He was filthy and ruined. Tear tracks criss-crossed his cheeks. 

It seemed like the pain should last forever, that he should limp through life on display as ruined and broken. But it didn’t. The pain in his body was fading. He just wanted to take a shower and wash the past few hours away. 

Kurt looked up and realized he had somehow ended up in his bathroom. He walked over to the shower and turned it on, making sure the water was hot. Very hot. As he shed his clothing, he refused to look at himself in the mirror. Dropping his clothes on the floor, he left them there. He didn’t care if it wrinkled. He never wanted to wear it again. Maybe later he would burn it. 

Getting into the shower, his skin immediately began to redden. He grabbed his loofah, soaped it up and started scrubbing. He zoned out after a while, scrubbing as hard as he could, trying to feel clean again, but he was still dirty. So dirty. He washed every inch, made sure to wash away all the proof of what had occurred earlier in that car. Kurt didn’t want to think about that car and how Blaine had been on top of him, ignoring his pleas. 

It wasn’t like Blaine had meant to. He had been drunk. Blaine loved him. He wanted what was best for Kurt. He wanted to show his love. And, as Blaine had pointed out, Kurt was a tease, always turning him away, always ‘not ready.’

Kurt scrubbed harder, trying to scrape away the slimy feeling down the backs of his thighs. 

Blaine had been drunk and so, so eager. That’s why he hadn’t heard Kurt pleading with him to stop, to get off him, to get away. It was Kurt’s fault for being a tease. 

Would Blaine even want him now?

He was dirty. Defiled. Ruined. Who would want him now? No one. He was nothing. Worthless. Broken. Used. 

Sinking down to the bottom of the shower, Kurt sat there until the water turned cold and pulled him out of his daze. Wrapping himself in his robe, he avoided his reflection in the mirror. All he wanted to do was collapse into his bed and sleep, but when he tried, he found he couldn’t drift off. 

All he could picture was Blaine’s face, that ugly look of bliss pasted across his features as he came. 

Curling up in a little ball, Kurt struggled not to retch. 

The next morning, he showered again, scrubbing until his skin turned red. Then he dressed in as many layers as he could, smothering himself in sweater on top of vest on top of shirt. By the time he was finished, he seemed to have no figure at all, completely lost in cloth. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked up the stairs. 

The bustle of the kitchen almost caught him off-guard, but he tried to put a brave face on. No one seemed to notice that his smile wasn’t entirely genuine. Rachel rushed around the kitchen, tossing ingredients into a bowl. “Kurt!” she exclaimed, grin wide across her face. “Pancakes?” 

“No thank you.” 

“They’re totally vegan and healthy.” 

Kurt glanced over to where Finn was sitting at the kitchen table in time to see a shudder run down his spine. “I … not this morning. I think I need more sleep.” Backing up, he crept out of the room and back up the stairs to his room. Fully clothed, he laid down on his bed and listened to the noises from below. 

It was nice, homey, listening to them. It wasn’t like listening to his dad and Carole, but Kurt was pretty sure he wasn’t ready to face them anyway. They stomped around and scraped chairs across the floor and chatted. 

And then they were all gone. The house was silent. Alone. 

Kurt just stared off into space. It was like he couldn’t stop. He pictured it over and over again, the way Blaine had shoved him into the back seat, the way he’d held Kurt down, the stink of his breath … 

His phone rang. 

Glancing at the screen, he saw that it was Blaine. 

Blaine wanted to speak to him, even now when Kurt was … used? 

“Hello?”

“Kurt! God, I have the worst headache, but I had to call and see how you are.” 

He swallowed hard. “Umm, fine.” 

“Right. You didn’t get drunk.” Blaine chuckled. “Ow, even laughing hurts my head. Why did you let me drink so much?” 

“You were … you were ordering your own drinks.” 

“Still, you could have stopped me.” Blaine’s voice held a teasing edge to it. 

No, Kurt couldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop him at all. 

“I don’t even remember getting home last night,” Blaine added. 

“You don’t?” 

“I remember you saying that we should leave and then not much else. I suppose we left at that point.”

“You had a few more beers actually and this weird shot Sebastian said he liked.” Kurt took a deep breath. “You were pretty drunk when we finally left.” 

“Sounds like I should call Seb and thank him for showing us such a good time.” 

Kurt took a deep breath. “I have to go. I … have to go.” 

“All right. You sure you’re all right? You sound strange. Sure I didn’t do something stupid that you’re not telling me about like walk into a car door or something?” 

“You … you were stumbling a lot.” 

"I hope you didn't laugh at me." 

"No, I never laughed."

Blaine laughed. "You're the best boyfriend."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Kurt got his hopes up. Maybe he and Blaine could put this behind them. Just forget about it, like it never happened at all. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Hey, you think we could go out with Sebastian again next weekend? I'll try not to drink so much next time, promise. But I already got a text from Seb this morning and he can't wait to see us again."

“I … I’m not sure I want to.”

“Please! Just for me!” 

How could Kurt deny his boyfriend anything, the one who still loved him even when he was … soiled. “All right, but maybe you drive this time?”

“Sure! It’s only fair.” 

The rest of the week, Kurt stepped quietly. He wore even more layers than usual and they were almost subdued, as subdued as he could possibly be. He spent hours working on his skincare to hide the dark shadows under his eyes, shadows left by dark and terrible dreams he could only half remember. Every touch made him jump. 

That didn’t sit well with Puck. He knew what Kurt looked like when he was happy and this was definitely not happy. Cornering that blasted hobbit, he demanded, “What did you do?”

“Do? What? Is this about Fight Club?”

“This is about Kurt.” 

“What about Kurt?”

“Why isn't he happy?”

Blaine sighed. “I don’t know. I think something happened last weekend, but I don’t remember what it was and whenever I try to talk to Kurt about it, he changes the subject or walks away or something. He says he’s fine.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not.” 

Obviously frustrated, Blaine ended the conversation with, “That’s all I know,” and then walked away. 

Puck interrogated Finn next. 

“What do you care?” he asked. 

“Because your brother is stumbling around like a fuckin’ zombie, dude!” 

“He looks okay to me.” Finn took another look. “I mean, he’s a little pale. He said he wasn’t sleeping well.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda girly to talk about that stuff.” 

“Girly, huh?” Stomping away, Puck went to find a girl so she could explain to him what was wrong with Kurt. He found Mercedes at her locker, lip-locked with Sam. 

“I don’t know,” she said when he finally managed to pry them apart. “He won’t talk to me.” She didn’t bother to ask why he wanted to know. During the brief period of them dating, he’d told her a few secrets, like the fact that he liked guys too. They’d laughed over their mutual crushes on Kurt Hummel. Surprisingly, she’d kept that secret to herself, for which he was very grateful. 

“What does Hudson know?” Sam asked. He had always been fond of Kurt. During the duets incident, he’d been hurt at first when Kurt backed out of their duet and angry when he later learned Hudson orchestrated it. Sam was never all that fond of Hudson. 

“Finn says Kurt isn’t sleeping well, but he doesn’t know why. The munchkin he’s dating doesn’t know either.” 

“He looks like he did when Kurofsky was bullying him. I didn’t want to say anything, but he’s even more of a white boy the same way he was then,” Mercedes said thoughtfully. 

“Maybe someone on the team is bothering him. We should find out.” 

Puck nodded. 

He discreetly asked around and so did Sam. Normally they would have asked Santana to do this, but the guys on the team weren’t talking to her anymore since she’d come out, just slinging slurs at her. It sucked. 

They did not find any evidence of bullying, which didn’t mean it wasn’t happening, so the two of them cornered Kurt at his locker late in the week. When Puck put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder to get his attention, the boy startled. That was enough information for him. 

“Who is it?” he asked. 

“Who? What? Puck, why are you and Sam sneaking around?” 

“We’re not sneaking,” Sam told him. “We just want to know who’s bullying you?”

“Other than the usual, no one. Why?” 

“Because you’re walking around here like a ghost. Duh!” 

“You really are. We’re your friends and we’re just concerned.” 

“I have no idea what the two of you are talking about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Rachel and I are meeting to go over some very important sheet music for Regionals. Gentlemen?” Kurt marched off. Puck and Sam both frowned, watching him. He didn’t have that usual sway to his hips and his march was forced, almost tentative. 

“I don’t like it. Something happened,” Sam said. 

“Yup. And I’m going to find out who that something is and beat him senseless.” 

They fist bumped in agreement. 

On Saturday night, Kurt sat on his stoop waiting for Blaine to come and retrieve him so they could go to Scandals with Sebastian. He was too nervous to wait in the house. Every minute felt like an hour and the hours passed like days. Days. Kurt looked up and saw the moon had moved far along the sky. Taking out his phone, he checked the time. Eleven-o’clock. Concerned, he texted Blaine. 

_Waiting for you. Where are you?_

There was no answer. 

Frustrated, Kurt went into the house and got ready for bed. Checking his phone again, there was still no answer. 

_Going to bed. Missed you._ he texted to Blaine. Again, there was no answer. 

Kurt went to bed and tried to sleep, an entirely fruitless exercise. At least, he thought to himself, I’m not dreaming. 

It wasn’t until the following afternoon when he heard from Blaine. Kurt was making angel biscuits. Making biscuits was what he usually did when there was something on his mind, particularly something upsetting. It felt good to mix up the flour and the water with his hands and he particularly enjoyed kneading it because the dough made a pleasant slapping sound when it would hit the table. The sound of bread wasn’t as good as biscuits. 

So, when the phone rang, Kurt’s hands were covered in flour and dough. Seeing who it was, he grabbed his phone anyway, and then silently cursed himself for getting it dirty. He’d have to get a new bump case now. Oh, well, he'd been wanting to get that sweet new one from the spring Louis Vuitton collection.

“Hello?”

“Kurt! I missed you last night!” 

Staring out the kitchen window, Kurt just blinked his eyes for a moment, willing them not to fill with water. 

“Kurt?”

“Sorry. If you missed me, why didn’t you pick me up?”

“Pick you … oh! I thought we were meeting there.”

“Oh.” He looked around. “I’m making biscuits right now. Can I call you back?”

“I was wondering if I could come over, actually.” 

Kurt was alone in the house. He didn’t particularly want to be alone with Blaine, but he didn’t have an excuse not to. Besides, if Blaine still wanted him, he was lucky. “I...yes, that’d be fine.”

“Great! I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” 

Blaine hung up and Kurt just stared at his phone for a moment. Squaring his shoulders, he decided he should find someone else to be there. He washed his hands first, then set about texting his friends, trying to find someone who wasn’t doing anything and could come over. Finn was at Rachel’s. Rachel was entertaining Finn. Mercedes was at the mall with Sam. Brittany was with Santana and Artie doing something Kurt probably did not want to know about. Tina wasn’t answering and neither was Mike. He felt so alone. Finally, desperate, he texted Puck. 

He got the reply, _Wrking - cme by l8tr._

Well, it was something, Kurt thought. Angry, he slapped around the dough some more. 

Twenty minutes later, the biscuits were safely in the oven to rise when Blaine came by. He looked perfect, not a hair out of place. The same could not be said for Kurt. There were smudges of flour on his face and on his clothes where they hadn’t been covered with the apron. 

“Hey! So, biscuits? They in the oven yet?” Blaine asked. 

“They’re still rising.” 

“Biscuits rise?” 

Kurt sighed. His boyfriend was hopeless in the kitchen. “They do if they have yeast in them. The ones I make use yeast.” 

“Oh.” He grinned. “You have flour on your face.” 

Startled, Kurt swiped a hand across his cheek. Indeed, there was flour there. “Oh, I have to wash. Umm, make yourself at home!” he called to Blaine as he fled down the hall. It only took a couple of minutes to wash his face, but he lingered in front of the mirror. He didn’t really want to go out there. Lately, Blaine was inconsiderate and selfish and he had - Kurt stopped that thought before it could get any further. He just stared at himself. There were dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping. By contrast, his cheeks were flushed with anger. It wasn’t a good look. 

There was a knock at the door. “Kurt?” 

Startling, Kurt jumped backward and knocked everything on the sink to the floor with a loud crash. 

“Kurt? Are you all right?”

Tearing open the door, Kurt came face to face with his boyfriend. “You!”

“Uh, me?”

“How could you just forget to pick me up? You were out with Sebastian, right? Did you fuck him?”

Blaine blinked, astonished to hear such accusations and that kind of language coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth. “I … of course not! How could you even think that I would -”

“Are you sure? Or have you conveniently forgotten? Because he sure wants to fuck you!” 

Neither of them heard the front door open. 

“I think I would remember,” Blaine bit out harshly. 

“You don’t remember when you … you … with me!” Kurt couldn’t bring himself to use the word _rape._ Blaine just stared at him. “You were so fucking drunk! You don’t even remember!” 

“God, I’m sorry, Kurt. I didn’t know. I mean I don’t remember. I mean -"

“That’s kind of the point.” 

Again, the sound of the door opening was lost on the both of them.

Blaine took a step back, putting some distance between them. “I wouldn’t have been so drunk if you hadn’t been feeding me drinks!” 

“Feeding … you were -” 

Puck’s voice suddenly floated up the stairs. “Gee, Rachel, Finn, what are you doing here, standing at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Blaine and Kurt fight?” 

Kurt blushed, backing away into the bathroom. Unfortunately, Blaine took that as an opportunity to step inside with him and shut the door. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t like what you’re accusing me of. I don’t think I would do something like have sex with you and not remember it.” 

Panicked, Kurt backed up until his calves hit the tub and almost fell into it. "Just get out. Get out and leave me alone.” 

“Kurt …”

“I can’t do this. Go away.” 

Helpless to do otherwise, Blaine left. This time, Kurt did hear the door, the finality of the sound of it shutting. Slowly, he crept down the stairs and peeked out, making sure that Blaine was gone. He found three people staring at him. Finn and Rachel shared looks of shock, but Puck just looked mildly thoughtful and a bit pleased. 

“So, the hobbit wasn’t good for you, huh?” Puck asked with a little smile. “That why you’ve been -”

“Kurt!” Rachel yelled, interrupting Puck. “I am so shocked. I am beside myself with utter incredulity. How could you?” 

“Could I what?” 

“Get Blaine drunk, take advantage of him, and then dump him!” 

“I didn’t -”

“We all heard you!” 

“Now, Rach,” Finn began, “I don’t think my brother would-”

“We heard him! They had sex! Kurt was feeding him drinks! What? Was he not good enough for you? Was he not drunk enough? How could you? Blaine is our friend! How dare you! Having sex with a clearly intoxicated person is not consensual!"

“I can’t-” Turning, Kurt ran up the stairs and locked himself in his room. 

“Maybe someone should go after him,” Puck suggested. “My boy there, seems like he’s not okay.” 

“I’ll go. He’s my brother.” Finn squared his shoulders and marched upstairs, ignoring his shrieking girlfriend. 

“Finn! Finn! How can you do this when Kurt is clearly in the wrong! We **heard** him!” She looked around, but Puck just glared at her. “Fine, I am going to go see how Blaine is. He is a soloist after all and my former -”

“Shut up, hobbit, and just go.” 

With her nose in the air, Rachel did just that. 

Well, she did a little bit more than that. Finn was in Kurt’s room, sitting on the bed with him, trying to get him to talk, and Puck was lounging in the doorway, when Kurt’s phone rang. It was Mercedes and she wanted to know what the hell Kurt thought he was doing, dumping Blaine. Puck grabbed the phone, told her “none of your business” and hung up on her. 

Kurt, who normally would have bitched him out for taking the phone, looked absurdly grateful. That’s when Puck knew something was seriously wrong. 

Text messages started stacking up from Mercedes and Tina wanting to know what was going on, Rachel chastising him some more, and Blaine spluttering, wanting to know if he was in fact dumped. Puck casually appropriated Kurt's phone and deleted all the texts from Rachel and Blaine, well not before writing back to them and telling them that they were definitely douches and Blaine was totally dumped. 

He contemplated deleting the rather random text from Brittany asking if dolphins could drown, but left it because he wasn’t sure if it was a coded message or not. Brittany could be surprisingly smart when she wasn’t being dumb. An idiot whatever. 

“Are you sure you can’t tell me what’s wrong?” Finn was asking. 

“I just … I … Blaine and I are over, all right? Isn’t that enough to be wrong?” 

“You know, it’s questions like that which make me think there’s something else.” 

Puck snorted. Witness Finn being actually smart for once. 

“I can’t talk about it yet.” 

“Is it something to do with sex?” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Was he really bad in bed?” Puck asked. 

“Yes, you could say that.” 

Puck frowned. He didn’t like the way that sounded. “If you need the Puckzilla to fix it, I will.” 

“Thank you, but no, Noah. I don’t want you to beat up my boyfriend.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Kurt shivered. "I think I'd like to get a little sleep." Really, all the attention was making him a bit jittery. 

"We'll just be downstairs," Finn said. Puck nodded and pocketed Kurt's phone. The two went downstairs and set themselves up with a _Transformers_ marathon. They turned the sound down so they would hear it if Kurt had a nightmare. 

Puck amused himself by reading all of the texts aloud to Finn so the two of them could devise crazy answers. Well, that was the plan anyway, but the texts coming in were becoming increasingly concerning. "Dude, who is this Wes guy? And why is he threatening our boy with law action?"

"Law action?"

"From some council. Henceforth you are stricken from the Warbler's rolls, it says. Who the fuck uses a word like henceforth?"

"Sounds like one of them Dalton guys," Finn said. 

"He is," Kurt called from the stairs. "Do you think you two could talk any louder?" Descending the stairs with the lifted chin of a diva, Kurt snatched his phone out of Puck's hand with all the grace he could muster. "Joy. I guess it's not true after all then, once a Warbler, always a Warbler."

"Here, let me." Puck took Kurt's phone and typed a reply in, then handed it back. "Just press send, dude."

Kurt smiled.

_You're a douche, dude. All your base are belong to us._

Kurt didn't change a thing before pressing send. “So, have you two been answering all my text messages?”

“Yeah, we told off Berry and broke up with Blaine for you,” Puck told him, grinning. 

“I should be really angry with you.” Kurt sat gingerly on the other side of the couch, avoiding touching the other boys. 

“Yeah, but you’re not.” 

“No, no I’m not.” Kurt said it more to himself as though it were a revelation. “I … I suppose I owe you two an explanation.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” Finn assured him. “I don’t care why you broke up with Blaine. You’re my bro and I got your back.” 

“Really?”

Puck nodded along. “Of course. I mean, you’re our boy.” Kurt smiled. It was only a small smile, but it was the first one Puck had seen in a while, so he treasured it. 

"I don't really want to talk about the whole thing yet, but I didn't just dump Blaine arbitrarily."

"If he hurt you, I will end him," Puck promised. 

"I don't want you to do that." Kurt shivered. "I just want this to all go away." He squirmed, trying to figure out what to say next. "I, uh..." 

Puck let loose a huge burp. 

"Oh, my Gaga, Noah! That was disgusting."

"Dude, that was awesome!" Finn gave Puck an enthusiastic fist bump.

"You would think so, you neanderthals," Kurt bitched. He also smiled. 

For the next week he hid behind Finn and avoided Blaine. Unfortunately that meant being around Rachel a lot. She had a lot to say about Blaine and how stupid and he was to dump Blaine. 

"He's really hurting, you know," she scolded. "He's crushed and your lies about having sex and him not remembering-"

"They weren't lies," Kurt snapped. 

"If they weren't lies then you raped him," Rachel hissed. "Getting him drunk and insensible and then taking advantage of him is rape."

Kurt turned white as a sheet. His hands shook and he backed away. 

Finn stepped between them and crossed his arms. "That's enough. You better leave."

"How can you side with him when our friend Blaine is hurting!" 

"He's my brother."

In a huff, Rachel stomped away. "Man, I am not gonna get laid for such a long time," Finn lamented, scrubbing a palm over his face. 

"Thank you," Kurt whispered. 

"You're my bro."

"I didn't."

"I know."

That simple statement made Kurt feel the best he had all week. Unfortunately, the feeling didn't last. When he closed his locker door after organizing his books to go home, Blaine stood there. Kurt's heart leapt up into his throat. Grabbing his lock, he tried to steady his breathing. 

"You scared me," Kurt said, trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice came out shaky and a bit panicked. "Don't...don't sneak up on me."

"Well, it seems to be the only way I can get to talk to you," Blaine complained. "You dumped me via text?"

"Well, actually, Puck did it."

"Then, this is some kind of joke?"

"No, it's no joke. I...I approved it. Well, after the fact, but I, you know, did."

"This is about the sex?"

"Yes."

"After you were feeding me drinks and-"

"I wasn't feeding you drinks, Blaine!"

Slamming his hand into the locker, Blaine yelled, “It doesn’t matter, does it! Drunk people can’t give consent!”

“It wasn’t you that didn’t give consent!” As soon as the words spilled out of his mouth, Kurt clapped his hands over it, desperately wishing he could reel them back in. Blaine’s eyes were huge and horrified. Around them the silence in the hallway was crushing. He looked around into the eyes of his fellow classmates in horror. They knew now. They all knew. Some were staring at him with pity and others with anger, but mostly he saw utter incredulity. Spinning on his heel he raced off down the hall, desperate to get away. 

“Wait, Kurt!” Blaine yelled, but Kurt couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t _anything_ right now. 

He’d almost made it out of the school when two strong hands on his shoulders stopped him. He looked at the chest in front of him, not daring to meet Puck’s eyes. He knew it was Puck. After all, who else wore such ratty shoes. 

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” Puck’s voice rumbled. 

“I can … I can …”

“You cannot drive right now. I’ll take you home.” 

Kurt nodded, but he still didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see the pity in Puck’s eyes. He just let Puck take him by the hand and lead him out of the school. He kept his eyes on his feet. 

At his house, Puck let them in the door. Kurt’s hands were shaking too much to do it. Carefully, he guided Kurt up the stairs to his room and settled him on the bed, kneeling down to gently untie, unstrap, and untangle his boots. “You need me to stay? I will if you want? Otherwise I’m going to go find that piece of douche and pound him until he’s even more unpretty.” 

Still not looking up, Kurt laughed, but it was a broken sound. “I … don’t go.” 

“I won’t.” He sat down on the bed and pulled Kurt’s feet into his lap, gently massaging them. “This alright?”

Kurt nodded. 

They sat together a long time, saying nothing. 

Finally, Kurt’s soft, feminine voice spoke up. “This isn’t supposed to happen to boys.” 

“I think at least half the prison population would disagree with you.” 

“I’m taller than he is.” 

“Maybe so, but he’s pretty muscled and solid. No offense, princess, but you’re not. You’re so skinny.” 

Kurt shook his head, still not looking up. 

Pushing Kurt’s feet away, Puck crawled up the bed to lay next to Kurt and pulled the other boy down to cuddle with him. “Hey, look at me,” he ordered, lifting the other boy’s chin. Kurt still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Look, I’m a badass, but even I’ve been beaten up. When I was in juvie, my first day there, some guys jumped me and roughed me up. Pulled out my nipple ring. Gave me this totally bitchin’ scar. Anyway, point is, this can even happen to strong people.”

“You were r-raped?” Kurt stuttered over the word, forcing it out of his throat. 

“No, but I was, like, traumatized. Point is, when people take power over you, no matter how they do it, it’s really rough. It makes you vulnerable and shit. It feels like shit.” 

Kurt giggled. “No shit.” 

“Hah, funny, hah hah. So, want to share. It seems to be story hour.” 

“Not really. There’s not much to tell.” Kurt tried to curl in on himself, but Puck pulled him closer, preventing it. “No, really, there’s not. Blaine and I agreed to go to that gay bar on the west side of Lima with Sebastian. You know who Sebastian is?”

Puck shook his head. 

“He’s basically the new Blaine at Dalton, lead singer for the Warblers.” He sighed, feeling just a little of the weight lifting off his shoulders as he told his story. “He thinks Blaine is sex on a stick.”

“Is he brain damaged?”

Kurt giggled. It seemed it was laugh or cry and given the choice, laughing it was. “Probably. Anyway, he wanted to take us to a gay bar - well, he wanted to take Blaine and that meant he had to let me tag along. He got me the fakiest fake ID. Blaine had a couple beers and some shots. He wasn’t walking entirely under his own power when I dragged him out of there. When we got to the car I decided to put him in the backseat so he could sleep it off. When I opened the door, he stumbled forward, kind of. Just, you know, right into me. I fell backward, hit my head on the car doorway before falling on the seat with him on top of me. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said. That’s … he said …”

“And you didn’t want to.”

Kurt nodded, resting his forehead against Puck’s shoulder. “I said no. I promise I said no.”

“Shhh.”

“But I wasn’t drunk!” Kurt whipped his head back, anger streaking through his veins. “I wasn’t! He was the drunk one! He’s the smaller one! He’s the one... He...”

“It can happen. It can happen to anyone.” 

“No, it happened to me because I’m weak. Because I’m girly. I’m like a girl, everyone says so! You even call me princess!” 

“Look, prin-Kurt, you’re not weak. You’re a lot of things, but none of them are weak. You’ve survived so much.” 

Shoving, Kurt practically fell off the bed to get some space. “It couldn’t happen to you! It didn’t!” Backing all the way up to his vanity, he grabbed onto it for support. “I think you should leave.” 

“No.”

“No? No? And I can’t make you leave, can I? Look at these arms? Useless! Look at this!” he screamed, pointing to his chest. “Weak and pale and useless! I look like a goddam albino and I’m about as strong as a fluffy bunny! A three-year-old could -”

“Stop!” Puck made no move to get closer, but his voice boomed across the room. “Look, you’re hysterical.”

Kurt laughed mirthlessly. 

“I’m getting up, but I’m just walking past you to go downstairs. I will be back with something to help calm you down, alright?”

“I wish you would just go.”

“Not going to happen, prin- … Just not going to happen.” He went downstairs. 

Shaking, Kurt slid to the floor, his head buried in his knees. 

Much too soon, Puck returned with a slightly steaming mug. “Hey,” he said, softly, as he knelt down. “Warm milk? Finn always said the milk you bring him calms him.” 

Kurt wanted to take it, but his hands were still shaking. “I’m being so dramatic,” he complained, licking his lips. 

“No, if you were being dramatic you’d be acting normal. Right now, you’re having a crisis.” Puck put down the mug and tugged the other boy forward into his arms. “It’s alright. If there were ever a time to have a fuckin’ break down, it would be now.” Picking up the mug, he helped Kurt hold it steady so he could drink. 

“This does help.” 

“Told ya.” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Dunno. I gotta have a reason?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Kurt drank his milk and suddenly slumped into his knees, terribly tired. “I forgot how well this stuff works.” 

“But you -”

“I give it to him, yes. I wait until later to have it myself. I prefer to be... yeah.” His head lolled to the side. “Can you help me to- oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Slipping his arm under Kurt’s, Noah helped him up.

“Making you touch the fag,” Kurt slurred.

“Shut up.” As he stumbled across the room, supporting Kurt, he couldn’t help but notice the way his boy slumped into him, the slim frame, and the soft skin of Kurt’s cheek against his neck. “Don’t say those kind of things about yourself. Ever.” 

Kurt was too tired to reply. Noah helped him slip under the covers. He contemplated staying, but he thought that would be an invasion of Kurt’s privacy, something Kurt really didn’t need right now, so he went down to the living room, where he found most of the Glee club including a tearful Rachel and a distraught Blaine. 

“What’s he doing here?”

“How is he?” Rachel begged to know. 

“What do all of you care? Who was here for him when all this shit went down? None of you!” 

“I was!” Finn protested. 

“‘cept for you. The rest of you get out.” 

“You can’t just throw us out,” Mercedes complained. “Kurt is my friend and I want to be here for him.” 

“I still can’t believe that I would do something like that. I … can’t have actually happened,” Blaine complained, his head in his hands. Tina sat next to him, stroking his hair. 

“What the fuck! You raped your fuckin’ boyfriend and people are taking pity on you? What universe is this?” 

“Puck’s right. You should leave, Blaine,” Finn told him. Standing up, he came over to stand with Puck, his arms crossed. “We’ll let you know how he is later, everyone. You should all go home for now.” 

“We want to be supportive,” Rachel complained. 

“Let me tell you how you can be supportive! Next time Kurt says something, y’all should believe him. And you, bushy brows, you can be supportive by getting the fuck out of here and not ever speaking to my boy again!” 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Blaine huffed, “and I made a mistake! I was drunk!” 

“That’s not a mistake, that’s a fuck-up. It’s the kind of fuck-up that sends your squirrely little ass to prison. You better be thankful Kurt didn’t do that. You get me?” Puck loomed over him. “Get out before I make you, and I can’t promise all of your limbs will still be attached if I have to.” 

Swallowing hard, Blaine turned and ran, stumbling over feet and furniture as he left. 

“Excuse me,” Santana muttered, going after him. Puck smiled to himself, picturing all the horrible things she was going to do to him when she caught up with him. Brittany nodded, watching her go. Standing, she headed for the stairs. 

“Hey!” Puck called out, intending to stop her, but Brittany just turned one of those wise but vapid smiles on him. 

“I have to go be with my dolphin.” Then she climbed the stairs and disappeared into Kurt’s room. 

Berry stood. “We should all -”

“Go,” Finn supplied. “Look, Rachel, I know how much you want to help and I’m sure Kurt appreciates it.” Puck snorted at that, but Finn bulled on. “The best thing you can do to help right now is to give him some space. He’s feeling really betrayed.” 

“That’s why we have to assure him that we’re on his side in this,” she argued. 

Mercedes grabbed her shoulder. “Come on. He’s right. Now is not the time.” 

“But -”

“You don’t get moving toward that door, I’m going to drag you out by your ear,” Mercedes threatened. 

Huffing, Rachel stomped out. The others followed, looking appropriately sheepish.

“I am so never getting laid,” Finn muttered. 

Puck laughed at him. “I’m gonna go check on the prin-Kurt.” 

“The prinKurt?”

“We got into it about … I’m not even sure how to tell it, but the dude resents being called princess. You know, I thought … I mean I thought it was our thing. He’s my boy, right?” 

Finn flopped onto the couch. “What do you mean when you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That he’s your boy. I’ve heard you say that before. What do you mean by it? You’re not thinking about Kurt romantically, are you?”

“What? No!” He thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think so. Man, I seriously need a beer.” He stumbled off toward the kitchen. 

“Get me one too,” Finn called after him. 

He came back with beers and flopped on the couch next to Finn. “What if I was?”

“Was what?”

“Thinking about him in a romantic way and shit.” 

“Then I would say it’s probably not a good time and to keep it in your pants or I will utilize my big brother card to justify beating you to death with a shovel.” 

Puck laughed. 

“What?”

“Three years ago, we would not ever have been having this conversation.” 

“True man, true.” They clinked beers. “Want to watch the game?” 

“Sure, but turn it on low. We shouldn’t disturb Kurt.” 

Upstairs, Kurt rested with his head in Brittany’s lap. They didn’t speak. She just let him rest. He wasn’t sleeping, but it was still soothing and just what he needed. Sometimes Brittany could be very wise. She started humming and he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

Hours later, he woke to find Brittany sleeping next to him. There was a tap-tap-tap at the window, which must have been what woke him. Going to the window and throwing up the sill, he looked out. “Blaine?” 

“Kurt, please, can we talk?” 

“Umm, no.” 

“Please, I have to understand what happened! I don’t remember anything!” 

Kurt huffed. “Fine. I’ll be right down.” Sneaking down, he passed Finn and Puck who were passed out on the couch. Carefully, he opened the back door, the one that made the least noise, and then walked around the house to where Blaine waited. His limbs shook with fear, but he tried to ignore it. 

Blaine tried to hug him. 

“Don’t!” he said, backing up into the side of the house behind him. “I’ll scream if you do that it will bring everyone running.” 

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” 

“Well, kind of late for that.” 

Blaine hung his head. “I really did, didn’t I?” 

“To be fair, you were helped along by drink and me hitting my head on the car door frame.” 

“But I did it,” Blaine said, and his eyes were haunted. 

“Yes.” 

“I don’t understand how I could have.” 

Kurt shook himself, forcing himself to answer. “You’re violent sometimes. You know that. It’s like … steroids. It is. You want to never be weak again and you become violent. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. And also watching _A Dangerous Method_.”

Blaine nodded. “At least you haven’t been reading _The White Hotel_.”

The boys giggled. 

“Oh, fuck, I did this horrible thing to you and here we are, giggling about Freud.” 

Kurt shook his head. “Maybe that’s what was part of what was always wrong, that … I’m not sure, but Freud would probably know.” 

Blaine grinned. “Or Commander Troi.” 

“Shhh, Sam will hear you and then we’ll be subject to Picard impressions for the rest of our lives.”

They both giggled again. 

Kurt sighed. “I can’t ever touch you again or be touched. You know that, right?” 

“Yes. I really did it, didn’t I?”

Kurt nodded. “You need help, Blaine. I want to forgive you. I desperately want to forgive you, but I can’t until you get help. You have anger in you and violence.” 

“That Dark Side, Sam would say.”

“Don’t make light of it.” 

Blaine nodded, distracted. “Has it always been there?” 

“I didn’t know about it for a while. You hide it, even from yourself. I...” Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t think I can ever hate you. It was horrible and awful and I’m pretty sure I never want anyone to touch me again, but I don’t hate you.” 

“I still love you.” 

“Don’t.” 

Blaine nodded. “Santana tracked me down when I went running. It was earlier. You were upstairs. She tracked me down and … made me pay.” 

“Do I want to know?” 

“She made me stand with my legs apart so she could kick me in the balls. Repeatedly. I’m shocked that my voice is back in my normal register.” 

“That’s not really making you pay.” 

“Really? Because it hurt like crazy.” 

“You’d know if this happened to you.” 

Blaine hung his head. “I don’t know what to do to make this better.” 

“You can’t. I think you’d piss me off if you even tried.” 

“I should probably go then.”

Kurt nodded. Still hanging his head, Blaine slumped off into the night. Turning, Kurt climbed the steps to his front door, only to find Puck lounging in the doorway. “How long have you been there?”

“Since you tried to be all sneaky going past me in the living room. That was too fuckin’ nice of you. He didn’t deserve it.” 

“I’ll be the judge of what he deserves.” 

Puck nodded. “Fair enough.” 

“It’s so weird.” Kurt pulled a shaky breath into his lungs. “I don’t hate him. I should hate him, shouldn’t I?” 

“S’alright. I’ll hate him on your behalf.” 

He laughed. “Alright.” 

“C’mon.” He slipped his arm carefully around Kurt’s shoulders. “Let’s get you back up to bed. If Brittany wakes up without her dolphin there will be hell to pay.” 

“Does this mean I’m going to be alright? That I can just talk to him like that?” 

“You know, my mom … she came home one night with … you get what I mean.” Puck steered Kurt into the kitchen and found them some cookies to munch on. “It was like years of nightmares and some drinking off and on … it was years before she could say to me that something even happened that night and she still doesn’t talk about it. You can’t think you’re just going to wake up in a week and it will be gone. He changed something about you. He took something huge away and you should be angry and you should be sad.” He paused for a moment. “And next week when Rachel wants you to fuckin’ sing about it then hug and make up with Blaine you should punch her in the nose. It’s a big target. It’s hard to miss.” 

“Is that the target you aimed at when throwing slushies?” 

“Could not miss. It’s like a frickin’ landing strip.” He smiled and Kurt tried to smile back. 

“Thanks, Puck.” 

“You bet.” 

Kurt stood up and went up the stairs to his room where his friend was waiting for him, while his other friend and his brother stood guard in the living room below. It wasn’t going to just suddenly be OK, but he had hope that someday it would be. 

[Epilogue - 5 Years Later]

Kurt whistled as he walked up the stairs to the apartment he shared with Puck and Mike. The three of them had agreed to get a place in Jersey, near enough to the train to go into the city for their classes and jobs and such. (Such generally being shopping, for Kurt.) 

“Puck?” 

“Hey, babe. Did you get milk? I texted you.” 

“You did? I got milk anyway because we always need it.” He set down his canvas bag and started rifling through it. “I went to the good market and the one down the block.” 

“You didn’t get more of that fra-shit, did you?” 

“Foi gras, and no. I learned my lesson, wait for someone who doesn’t think Boones Farm is a decent wine to feed it to.” 

Puck laughed at him. Two years with Kurt as his official boyfriend and they were still feeling things out. There were good days and bad days. Still, last Saturday had been a good day, holding Kurt all night and making sweet, gentle love to him in the morning that went on for hours until they were both sweaty and sated. 

Today looked like a good day too, the way Kurt’s shirt rode up revealing a bit of tummy and his jeans showed off his ass. Bad days were when he wore baggy, dark clothes and acted out, snipping at everyone. 

“Is Mike home tonight or is he staying with Soko?” 

“Yeah, he’s with his Asian chick. Want to fuck?” 

Kurt blushed. “I want to, yeah. I mean, make love.” 

Approaching Kurt from the front, Puck very carefully wrapped him in a bear hug. “I can do whatever you want, babe. You know that.” 

“How did I ever deserve you?” 

“You existed. That’s all it took.”


End file.
